


My Baby Can Dance

by traveller19



Series: Hold Back the River AU [6]
Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Angst, F/M, First Date, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Martial Arts, Romance, Swing Dancing, TRIGGER WARNING: Hospital, TRIGGER WARNING: Medical, TW: Medical, Whump, but never a dull moment, h/c, match making, sometimes life on Babylon 5 is kind of fun, tw: hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-28 16:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13274949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traveller19/pseuds/traveller19
Summary: Whenever Susan opens herself up to anyone, someone gets hurt.  Marcus is willing to risk it.Part of the "Hold Back the River AU" series.  This fic will make the most sense if you have read the previous stories in this series, and there are spoilers for previous stories in this fic.





	1. And I’m Trying To Please The Calling Of Your Heartstrings

**Author's Note:**

> I’ll post updates every other day. There are a total of five chapters. Please review!

Marcus Cole tightened his grip on his _Denn’bok_ and tensed, his body square and muscles ready to spring at a moment’s notice. With narrowed blue eyes he stared down his opponent, who met and held his gaze with equal intensity. The Minbari’s hands were positioned for delivery of a _tha’mora_ , held over his torso with fore and little fingers extended upward. The two circled together, slowly, as they had been doing for several seconds. Marcus knew that one of them would have to make a move eventually. But it was not going to be him – oh, no. There was no reason for him to strike first. Moving on the offensive would result in an unnecessary drop in his defenses. No, he would wait. He could practically feel the thrum of excitement radiating off of the Minbari facing him. Marcus’s opponent would strike first – he just needed to wait. Because Marcus had all the time in the world, and he knew that Lennier was positively itching for a fight.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, Marcus saw his friend move to deliver a blow. Marcus parried it with ease, simply adjusting the position of his staff. Lennier tried again, jabbing lower this time, and once more Marcus deflected the blow, but he still made no move to attack. Frustration flashed in the Minbari’s eyes. Marcus knew it had nothing to do with the fact that he was successfully fending off Lennier’s blows, and everything to do with the fact that he was doing very little to fight back.

The two had engaged in sparring matches in Babylon 5’s gym since Marcus had come aboard the station two years prior. For about six months, their fights had been regular and intense. Even though Marcus, as _Anla’shok_ , was clearly the better fighter, Lennier had Minbari strength and a lifetime of martial arts training, and he threw everything he had into their fights, giving Marcus a decent run for his money. But then Lennier had been taken very ill and had nearly died, and after his recovery he had been diagnosed with a genetic antibody deficiency that meant any wounds or cuts could potentially be life threatening for him. And to add to all of it, the illness had left Lennier’s immune system in tatters, and he had been ill on and off since then, with one more very serious illness and an emergency surgery several months prior. There had been little time when Lennier had been well enough to spar, but when he was he never let Marcus forget that the opportunity was there. Marcus supposed his friend just wanted so badly to forget about his physical limitations for a little while and ensure his skills did not get rusty – after all, Lennier relied on his ability to fight to protect the people he loved, which was one of the duties he held most dear. But all the same, Marcus could not forget that things were different now. His friend had a fragility to him that he had not had before, and if Marcus hurt him he would feel terrible about it for the rest of his life. Although that life would probably be quite short because Delenn would probably kill him. And so while Lennier always made every attempt to pummel Marcus into the ground, Marcus fought back just enough to give the both of them a decent workout and to protect himself, but never enough to injure Lennier.

And Lennier absolutely detested it. Marcus knew he knew _why_ he was doing it. He knew that if he got injured and consequently ill, it would hurt his friends. Lennier hated hurting his friends. And so he did not argue. But he _hated_ being treated like he was frail and breakable, and that showed in the way he fought. His anger at his situation, which he generally repressed quite well, bubbled to the surface as they sparred, running through his veins as his heart pumped overtime from the exertion of the fight, giving him a simultaneous icy focus and barely-contained fire.

Marcus needed equal focus, both to avoid injuring his friend and to avoid getting hurt himself by Lennier’s barely-contained fury. Normally, he was able to achieve the proper level of concentration – he had, after all, been trained by the best. But today he was having difficulty.

He knew _why_ he was having difficulty. He had no one to blame but himself, really. Still, that fact didn’t change anything.

A lot had happened over the past two years to occupy Marcus’s thoughts and time and energy. There had been the Shadow War, the Minbari Civil War, and then the conflict with Earth, not to mention various periods of fear for his close friend Lennier’s health and life. But through it all, there had been one thing that never truly left his thoughts. He had not had much time to try to deal with it, but it had always been there.

That thing was his love for Captain Susan Ivanova – Babylon 5’s new leader, now that Sheridan was President of the newly formed Interstellar Alliance. But now that the wars were over and Lennier was well (both for the time being, at least – Marcus appreciated that the world was unpredictable, but he also appreciated the lull in the trials that had befallen Babylon 5 recently), he actually had time to focus on it. His love was at least vastly unrequited, of that much Marcus was aware. He would not delude himself otherwise. But he could not help but – nay, _had to_ – think that somewhere, deep down, Susan might have _something_ resembling feelings for him. Because he didn’t know what he’d do if she didn’t.

Until a year and a half ago, Marcus would never have subjected Susan to a relationship with him, despite his strong love for her already at that time. He had been broken. Everything he touched turned to ash, and everyone he loved, he lost. He had felt terribly guilty for that. But Delenn and Lennier had helped him realize that he did not need to hold onto that guilt, and Marcus had slowly been set free from his burden. But by the time he had finally felt potentially worthy of Susan’s affections, it had been time for all of them to turn their attentions to warfare and protecting their beloved station.

But now the war was over. President Clark was gone, and the conflicts and troubles of the universe seemed to have all taken a simultaneous holiday. President Sheridan and Delenn had even felt comfortable enough with the situation to go and get married. Now was the time, Marcus thought. If he was ever going to pursue the woman he loved so deeply, he needed to do it now, before their lives became flurries of worry and turmoil once more (he couldn’t ask Susan to start a new relationship when she had so much to deal with). But the problem was, Marcus had never actively sought the affections of anyone before, or at least not as a romantic partner. He had no idea how to go about it.

So, out of lack of ideas about anything else to do, he had begun to try to orchestrate situations in which he might conveniently run into Susan. He was _not_ stalking her – that much he wished to be abundantly clear to anyone who might ask. He was not following her around and watching her every move. He simply tried to increase his chances of being in the same place as her at the same time. It was his hope that this way they would have more frequent conversations – more opportunities for him to subtly convince her that they were right for each other. He had no idea what he would say during those conversations – he had not thought that far ahead. He would never be forceful, though – this was to be all Susan’s choice. But he desperately, _desperately_ hoped she chose him.

So when Stephen Franklin had happened to mention to Marcus that Susan tended to go to the gym on Tuesday afternoons at 1730 when she got off her shift in C&C, he had taken Lennier up on one of his very frequent requests to spar – provided they were in the gym at 1730 on Thursday. He had been _very_ specific about this particular time. Lennier had looked at him suspiciously, but he had not argued.

However, it was now past 1730, and there was no sign of Susan. Marcus parried yet another attack from Lennier and indulged his friend with a jab of his own, which was quickly deflected. But then Marcus heard the mechanical swishing of the door swinging open. His heart turned inside his chest and pushed its way into his throat, and the sweat lining his palms doubled in amount. He turned to look in the direction of the doorway, to catch his first glimpse of the lovely Susan.

His head never made its full swivel, because the instant he took his eyes off his opponent, his thigh was met with the tail end of a spinning kick. Since Marcus wasn’t looking forward, it knocked him thoroughly off balance and the next thing he knew, he was staring up at the ceiling of the gym. Marcus cursed himself – that was Lennier’s _favorite_ move. He should have been anticipating it – they had sparred together enough times, after all. His next thought was a horrified one – Susan had seen him get knocked flat on his back. By a non-Ranger Religious Caste Minbari, no less. This wouldn’t do. He needed to rectify this. Now.

He leapt to his feet, ignoring the pain from the bruise that was doubtlessly already forming on his thigh, and rushed at Lennier. He watched the expression on his opponent’s face change from an ever-so-subtle smirk to mild alarm to excitement. Lennier was finally getting the fight he wanted. As Marcus charged, Lennier ducked and rolled between his legs, then jumped up and turned around to face Marcus again as he spun one hundred eighty degrees.

“What are you two _doing_? You’re going to kill each other!” The voice from the sidelines was very worried, and it was very clearly _not_ Susan. Vir. Vir Cotto had been the person walking through the door. It had never been Susan. Marcus’s intense disappointment consumed him for just long enough for Lennier to roll behind him and deliver a very light _tha’mora_ to his back, sending Marcus tumbling to the ground once more. He rolled over to find Lennier standing over him, almost managing to suppress a smug grin. The Minbari laid a gentle but firm hand on Marcus’s chest.

“I believe I have won this one,” he said. “Had I chosen to knock you unconscious with that _tha’mora_ , I easily could have.”

“Oh, so it’s by your mercy alone that I am unharmed?” Marcus had to fight to keep the dripping sarcasm out of his voice. He was not a sore loser – he was just frustrated, both at the fact that Susan was not there, and at himself for allowing thoughts of her to distract him enough that Lennier had beaten him. Thankfully, the perceptive Lennier seemed to pick up on Marcus’s bad mood, and he did not answer his question with another retort. Instead, he offered Marcus his hand. With a deep sigh, Marcus took it, and Lennier hoisted his friend to his feet.

Vir, standing ringside, looked a touch pale. “Are you two _insane_? We’ve just finished fighting, well, pretty much everybody, and now you want to fight _each other_?”

“We can’t let our skills languish, Vir,” Lennier explained gently as he ducked beneath the barrier surrounding the fighting ring. “We have to keep them sharp for when we really do need them.”

“Yours were quite sharp today,” Marcus conceded. Lennier flashed him a brief smile, but Marcus could see the concern in his eyes. His friend had seen right through him. Marcus changed the subject. “Vir, here to have a go on the treadmill?”

“Not today” said Vir flatly, eyeing the nearby exercise machines with mild disgust. “I just wanted to make sure we were still on for movie night tonight?”

Despite his disappointment, Marcus couldn’t help but smile. Although he wanted more than anything in the universe for Susan to love him as he loved her, he had to admit that he was quite fortunate to have friends who cared about him and wanted to spend time with him.

“I am if you two are.”

 

Susan Ivanova closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the scent of the steaming liquid in front of her fill her senses. It was tea, or at least something very similar to what she knew of as tea - of that Delenn had reassured her. Susan had learned over time that some Minbari food was completely foreign to her, while other Minbari food seemed just like an extra-spicy version of human food. She took a tentative sip from the mug in her hand and immediately put it into the second category. It tasted like chai tea, just with considerably more zest. She blinked a couple of times at the intensity of it, willing her eyes not to water.

“Do you like it?” Delenn, a cup of her own in her hand, lowered herself onto the couch next to Susan.

“It…it’s…” Susan tried and failed to stifle a cough. “…something.”

Delenn laughed, her gray eyes dancing with amusement. “You might be comforted to know that you are handling it considerably better than John did the first time he tried it. The _only_ time, in fact. He had a coughing fit that lasted a full minute.”

“Oh. Oh good.” Susan tried to sound somewhat encouraged, but her tone came out flat.

Delenn just smiled and passed her a crystal bottle. A smell of sweetness wafted from its liquid contents as Susan accepted it.

“Place two drops in the cup. The sweetness will counteract a bit of the spice. But do not add more than two drops, or it will become so sweet it will turn your stomach.”

“Noted.” Susan obeyed and then tasted the tea again, even more tentatively than last time. But to her surprise, it was now not only tolerable, but in fact pleasant. She said so, and Delenn beamed.

“I am glad you like it. As you probably know, Minbari do not have as strong a sense of taste as humans do, so our foods are generally far spicier. With the exception of _flarn_ , I have been told.”

Susan raised a curious eyebrow. “Have your tastes altered at all since your…change?”

“No,” replied Delenn thoughtfully, “but then again I suppose I never did like my flavors quite so… _abrasive_ as do most other Minbari.” She picked up the bottle of sweet liquid from the table in front of the couch where Susan had placed it and added two drops to her drink as well. She then took a sip and met Susan’s gaze as she lowered her cup, and the two smiled at each other.

Susan leaned back against the couch and took another drink, reflecting that she was, in fact, happy that she had come to visit her friend today rather than go to the gym. Yes, she ought to exercise, but to be fair she probably got plenty of that pacing around C&C all day. And with everything that had been going on recently, she had not had much time to spend with Delenn in a non-work capacity. Susan needed to relax, and Delenn was a very relaxing person to be around. 

She placed her cup on the table. “Where’s your usual entourage?”

Delenn’s lips twitched upward. “John is with Michael, watching a recording of apparently a very famous and important historical game of…oh, what is it, with the sticks to hit things?”

“Hockey?”

“Baseball!”

“Ooooh.” That sounded like Sheridan. “And Lennier?”

“Sparring with Marcus, and then they and Vir were going to watch a movie.”

“Aw, good for him. Getting some buddy time in.” She hoped Marcus was enjoying himself. She’d rarely had the chance to even talk to him recently, but he’d seemed a bit sad the past few times she had seen him.

Delenn chuckled. “Is that what we are doing?”

Susan cracked a grin. “Yeah, I guess. Kicking back, relaxing, talking about things other than work.” She would be the first to admit that this would be hard for her – sometimes she got so focused on her work that she thought of nothing else for days and days. Even now, relaxed though she was, she was having difficulty thinking of things to talk about. So, since so many of her thoughts in the present were directed toward her job, she focused on the past.

“What did you used to do for fun, Delenn? Back on Minbar, before you came here.”

“Hmmm,” murmured Delenn. She seemed to be deep in thought for a moment, then smiled at a memory. “Back in temple, I would stay awake for hours upon hours, sometimes until dawn, studying the prophecies of Valen. It always brought such a calming sense of familiarity to me – now I know why.” The last part of her words were but a murmur, and Susan laid a hand on her friend’s arm for a moment before redirecting the conversation slightly.

“What about with other people? You must have had friends.”

“Oh yes,” Delenn agreed. “One in particular. Do you remember Shaal Mayan?” Susan nodded. “Well, we have been friends since even before we entered temple. Our families’ homes were quite near to each other. We share a love of poetry. Of course, I could never match her skill in writing it, but I very much enjoy reading it. On nights when we had no obligations in temple, we would sit in one of our rooms and talk about poetry with great alacrity – she would write, I would read, and we would discuss. It was something we had in common, and we both very much enjoyed having someone with whom we could share our interest. In fact, what we are doing right now reminds me a bit of those nights.” An expression of sweet nostalgia lingered on her face for a moment, before she sighed deeply and turned Susan’s question back onto her. “And what of you? How did you spend time with your friends in the days before Babylon 5?”

Susan closed her eyes for a moment and let her mind drift back to another time. A time before war, a time when she had had her whole life and career ahead of her, a time before she lost her _whole_ family, a time when she had been the most at peace she had ever been. Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” wafted pleasantly to her ears as she followed the lead of one of her classmates as he led her to _step, step, rock-step_ in time with the swung beat of the music. Other couples surrounded them on the crowded dance floor, and Susan felt oddly comfortable despite the closeness. The energy was at once relaxing and exhilarating, and there were very few places she would rather be than the dimly lit dance hall, having a good time while surrounded by other people who were also having a good time.

“Back when I was a student in Earthforce Academy, there was a swing dancing organization which held dances every Friday night. I went most weeks.”

Delenn cocked her head slightly as she echoed Susan’s words as a question. “Swing dancing?”

Susan explained. “It was an ancient form of dance which evolved on Earth from the nineteen twenties through the fifties. It experienced a revival in the nineteen nineties, and it remained popular from there on out. It’s timeless – it’s just you, your partner, and the music, which is very easy on the ears.”

“It sounds quite enjoyable.”

“It was. It was one of the few times when I could just forget about life – stresses, current events, things that were bothering me. I could just let it all go for a few hours and enjoy my time with friends who enjoyed something I did. Occasionally I went to meet people and I did end up dating a couple of my dance partners over the years – Jonah and Tabitha – but mostly I just went for the dancing and the company.” A specific face flooded her mind then, and the sweet memory was painted over with an acute exacerbation of lingering grief. “Sometimes my brother, Ganya, came as well, when he was in town. We’d dance and talk together. Those were some of the few times I actually got to interact with him during those years – we were both so busy all the time.”

Delenn laid a soft hand on Susan’s arm. “You must miss him terribly, even after all these years.”

Susan drew a shaky breath and nodded. “It only hurts when I think about him now.”

“I am sorry our conversation has upset you – such was not my intention.” Delenn looked disheartened.

“No, it…it’s okay.” Susan blinked a couple of unshed tears away from her eyes and collected herself. “It’s just unfortunate – I haven’t had the opportunity to go swing dancing since I left the academy. Ganya always enjoyed it, and I feel like he would have liked to see me continue to do it, or at least sometimes.”

“Do not discount the possibility of future chances. We never know what directions the universe will take us, and what opportunities it will lay at our feet.”

Susan had learned long ago that when Delenn said something that sounded wise, it was worth listening to.

“Okay,” she said with a soft smile. “You’re right. We never know.”


	2. It Means That You're The Fairest In The Land

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I lied. I'm too impatient, so I'm going to post a chapter a day. Enjoy, and please leave comments! Thanks! :)

Lennier stared thoughtfully into his cup of tea, watching the steam rise from it and leave a thin, transient fog on the slick surface of the table. Lost in his own contemplations, he did not realize how long he had been doing so until his reverie was interrupted.

“Personally, I find that the benefits of tea are maximized when it goes _inside_ the body, rather than staying _outside_ of it.” Delenn was teasing him, but only gently.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” He obediently picked up his cup and took a sip as Delenn watched him with a mixture of amusement and concern from where she sat next to him at her kitchen table.

“You are quiet today, Lennier. Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m fine.” He reassured her quickly, knowing that she held a constant baseline of worry about his health, which only increased should anything seem abnormal with him. Lennier hated seeing Delenn worry, so he always did whatever he could to curb it. But he knew how hard it could be _not_ to worry about one’s friends. “I apologize for my distraction this morning. I fear I am having difficulty concentrating on work.”

“What is bothering you?” Delenn’s eyebrows furrowed with concern.

Lennier sighed softly. “In truth? Marcus.”

“Marcus? Delenn’s worry only increased, and Lennier winced internally. “Is he all right?”

“Physically, yes. Well, come to think of it, he probably has a few bruises after yesterday.”

Delenn looked a touch exasperated. Lennier knew that while she accepted Lennier’s sparring with Marcus because she knew it was important to him, it always set her a bit on edge because of the potential for Lennier to get hurt, which due to his genetic condition could have life-threatening consequences. When he had first seen how much it upset her, he had offered to stop, despite desperately not wishing to. No matter how much he loved something, it wasn’t worth it if it upset Delenn. But then she had told him that she did not wish for him to stop on her account – only if _he_ wanted to. Yes, she was unhappy at the awful twist of fate which had caused Lennier to have to worry about the things he loved making him ill, and yes, in an ideal world she would wrap him in blankets and keep him at her side constantly so she could make sure that nothing bad ever happened to him. But that was not realistic, nor was it fair. Lennier loved martial arts, and sparring regularly (or as regularly as his health would allow him) kept him feeling as though he were capable of defending Delenn if necessary, and Delenn’s safety was the most important thing in the universe to him. So they had come to an agreement – Lennier (and Marcus) had promised to be very careful, and Delenn had promised to only worry a _little_. But when it came down to it, Marcus was the better fighter – he was a Ranger, after all, and Lennier was certainly no member of the Warrior Caste – and they all knew it. So if Marcus was bruised after yesterday’s sparring session, it stood to reason that things had perhaps gotten a bit…out of control. Or at least, it was a perfectly reasonable assumption on Delenn’s part. Lennier did not believe things had gotten out of control. But he had been a bit…enthusiastic. And perhaps he had taken just a _bit_ of advantage of Marcus’s distracted state. But only a bit.

“Neither of us are hurt, Delenn,” he reassured her. She relaxed a bit at his words. She trusted him completely – they both knew that they were past the point of Lennier lying about physical maladies. That had not gone well in the past. “But…I beat him yesterday, Delenn. I actually won one of our sparring matches. Fairly,” he emphasized before she could even think to imply, politely though she may, that Marcus had allowed him to win (this thought was not without precedent).

The corners of Delenn’s mouth tugged upward. “Good, Lennier. You see, you are still just as good of a fighter as you were before you got sick.”

Lennier smiled softly. “I appreciate the encouragement, Delenn. But I am afraid the reason I won is because Marcus seemed very distracted yesterday. I am afraid his heart is quite troubled.” Lennier’s own heart squeezed for his friend, and Delenn looked saddened.

“Troubled? How so? Not with guilt again, I hope – it seemed so much that he was recovered from that.”

“No, it is not that,” said Lennier. “I’m afraid…” He paused, for a moment considering whether or not he should tell Delenn. After all, it was not really his secret to tell. In fact, it was not something that Marcus had even entrusted him with. Just because, nearly two years ago when he was experiencing the same thing, Lennier had, in a moment of fear and helplessness and desperation, entrusted Marcus with the secret of his heart, it did not mean that he was entitled to the same information from Marcus. Nor did he have any right to share that information, even with their dear mutual friend, and his personal confidant. But Delenn was very wise, and she cared deeply for Marcus, just as Lennier did. If there was a chance she could help, then she should know. And besides, it was not as if Marcus had specifically told Lennier _not_ to tell Delenn. So this was all right. “I’m afraid our friend Marcus is suffering from a rather bad case of unrequited love.”

“Oh. I see.” Delenn sat back in her chair, looking simultaneously thoughtful and a bit pitying. “Did he tell you this?”

“Not…as such.” Lennier donned his best sheepish expression. Delenn was clearly unimpressed. Lennier sighed. “But it’s obvious, Delenn. He’s easily distracted, easily frustrated, a bit depressed…” Lennier lowered his eyes. “I…I know the signs, Delenn. I’ve been there.”

Delenn reached over to lay her hand over his, and he slowly looked up into her kind, smiling eyes. Lennier relaxed. He was immensely glad that he had imparted to Delenn that he had once been in love with her. He hated keeping secrets from her, and they were now so close (but in a different way) that there was no awkwardness between them. It hurt a little to think of the time their friendship had lost, but one look at Delenn’s comforting expression and her squeeze of his hand told Lennier that he should not be troubled. All was right between them now, and Lennier was so thankful.

But all was _not_ right with Marcus. “When we went sparring yesterday – it was not at the time we usually do, because Marcus is generally busy during that time. Which was fine – it was after I left here, and I had no other obligations at that time – but Marcus was _very_ insistent that we meet at _that_ time – there was no room for even the smallest of adjustments. So one might ask, why that particular time?”

Delenn raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Why, indeed?”

“Well, I have previously been to the gym – on my own – at the time Marcus and I went yesterday. And every time I have been there at that day and time, I have seen Captain Ivanova there. She is like me, I feel, in the way that she and I are both creatures of habit. We crave consistency, routine – I as a result of my Religious Caste training, and she because of her military background. I fully expected to see her there yesterday, and I believe, so did Marcus.”

Delenn nodded slowly. “I am beginning to understand, I think. The reason the Captain was not at the gym at her regular time yesterday was actually because she was here, with me. With the all of the conflict and strife going on in our lives recently, it had been some time since Susan and I were able to spend any leisure time together. It was long overdue. I did not realize that I invited her over at the time she generally exercised. It was nice of her to sacrifice that to come and visit me. We had a lovely time. She tried _our_ tea and only coughed a little.”

Lennier chuckled. “She has good taste.” _Although that would be better exemplified if she paid a bit more positive attention to Marcus._ “When Vir came in to check in about movie night, Marcus thought it was the Captain walking in the door. He got distracted, and that’s how I won. That’s not like him, Delenn. It’s not like him at all. He’s a Ranger, trained by the best. He knows how dangerous getting distracted during a fight can be. I know we were just sparring, but we always try to make it like the real thing. Without hurting each other, that is,” he reassured quickly at Delenn’s stern look. “I should not have won that fight, Delenn. He’s a much better warrior than I to begin with, and while I am so much recovered from my recent illnesses, I am still not entirely as physically adept as I was before. Something must truly be bothering Marcus for him to have lost without trying to do so, and I am quite certain that that something is Captain Ivanova.”

“But he has not admitted this to you?”

“Not directly, no. But he speaks of her quite often, and with great fondness and wistfulness. And if she is mentioned in conversation, even just in passing, he perks up. And when he sees her – if we are sitting with Vir at the bar looking out into the Zocalo, for instance, and she just walks by – he gets this desperate expression on his face, like he wants so much for her to just look in his direction, or Valeria forbid even smile at him. He’s heartsick, Delenn. And honestly, it hurts to watch.”

The love in Delenn’s gaze made Lennier’s heart feel warm. “It hurts because you care about your friend. Even though it is an unpleasant sensation, it is good that you are feeling it. You have such a soft and caring heart – it is one of the things I love the most about you.”

“Thank you, Delenn.” Where in the past he might have triangled his hands and bowed at the praise, Lennier now only smiled back at his beloved mentor and dearest friend. The latter action held so much more meaning than the former. “But I am afraid that caring alone will not solve Marcus’s problem – at least, not caring on _my_ part. I wish there was something I could do to help him, but I am afraid there is only one person who can.”

Delenn stared into space for several moments, deep in thought. Good. Delenn was a strategist – she was good at thinking of plans and interventions in ways that no one else Lennier had ever known had been able to master. This was exactly what Lennier had wanted to happen; now, he just needed to give Delenn the time she needed to think of a way to help Marcus feel better. She was very good at comforting people – Lennier, having been quite ill on several occasions recently and consequently in great need of comfort, had plenty of firsthand experience with this. She would think of something.

And then a smile slowly spread across Delenn’s face, and Lennier knew she had been successful. He did not press her - he waited for her eyes to meet his, and for her to explain in her own time.

“You are right, Lennier. There _is_ only one person who can help our friend Marcus, and that person is Susan. _But_ , perhaps there is something we can do to…move things in the right direction, as it were.”

“Move things in the right direction?” Lennier was confused now. This was not at all what he had expected.

“Yes!” Delenn confirmed with great alacrity. “You of all people know, Lennier, that the only cure for heartsickness as a result of unrequited love is for that love to be requited.”

_Or to have a deathbed vision which changes the nature of the love entirely. But that is beside the point._ Lennier nodded, a touch apprehensive. It sounded as though Delenn was thinking of interfering in Marcus’s and the Captain’s personal affairs.

“Delenn…what exactly are you planning?” he asked, a bit tentatively.

Delenn folded her hands in contemplation. “The idea is too nebulous to even articulate at the moment. Give me time to solidify it, and then I will need your help carrying it out. Are you up for it?”

It would not be the first time Lennier had placed his full trust in Delenn despite being unsure exactly what he needed to do and how it would turn out. _Understanding is not required – only obedience._ He might not know precisely what Delenn was planning, but he knew that no matter what she did, she would do it with sensitivity and tact. She cared very much for both Marcus and Captain Ivanova, and Lennier knew that she just wanted them to be happy, just like he did. And if _they_ were happy, then _Delenn_ would be happy. And more than anything, Lennier wanted Delenn to be happy.

“Match-making is not a skill I have in my repertoire. I am always looking to learn new things.”

Delenn’s enormous smile made his trepidation completely worth it. 

 

Susan had hardly been able to believe her ears when John had told her that he and Delenn were hosting a swing dance for all of the command and ambassadorial staff in station’s large ballroom. There was to be a live band and plenty of food and drink for all. Sheridan seemed happy about the idea, saying that a celebration was in order after everything they had all been through recently. Even though she was almost positive she knew the answer, Susan had asked whose idea it had been. John had responded that it had been Delenn’s, though he had no idea where she had even heard of swing dancing. Susan had said that she had a pretty good guess.

Susan was incredibly grateful toward Delenn for being so thoughtful, and her gratefulness only increased when she walked into the ballroom the night of the event and saw just how much effort her friends had gone to. Delenn and Lennier had obviously gone to great lengths in researching the dances, the music, and the era. She was sure that John, who had considerably more knowledge of Earth history than the Minbari, had helped as well. There was a five-piece band with a vocalist, a clarinet, a trumpet, and trombone, and a piano. Not just an electric keyboard, either – a real baby grand, its black finish glinting under the spotlights. “On the Sunny Side of the Street” played as she walked in. The floor had been polished and buffed, perfect for gliding through the steps in suede-bottomed shoes. The food table held many familiar treats, but also some unfamiliar ones as well – Delenn had clearly attempted to keep as many of the races as she could in mind when designing the spread. There were also multiple punch bowls, clearly labeled “alcoholic” and “non-alcoholic”. The lights were low, giving the room a wonderful ambience. It was so very much like Susan remembered those nights so long ago, and she felt nostalgia wash over her.

“Susan?” She turned to see that Delenn had come up next to her. She was resplendent in a flowing, emerald green dress, and she had curled her hair in a style strikingly reminiscent of the United States in the nineteen forties. She had clearly put a lot of thought into every detail of the event. “How did we do?”

She seemed barely able to contain her enthusiasm – her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, and she was practically bouncing with excitement. Susan looked around her with an incredulous laugh.

“Delenn, it…it’s amazing. Thank you. I mean, I know all of this isn’t just for me, but all the same – this is incredible.” She met Delenn’s shining gray eyes. “You’re a really good friend, Delenn.”

Delenn beamed with joy. “I just do what I can to make the people I love happy. But you are right – all of this is not _just_ for you.” She looked slightly mischievous, and Susan wondered exactly what she was talking about. But before she could inquire further (and she doubted Delenn would have given her a straight answer, anyway), John Sheridan strode up, and Susan’s jaw hit the floor.

Suspenders. The illustrious, decorated former military leader of Babylon 5 and president of the Interstellar Alliance was wearing suspenders. _And a bowtie._

“Getting into character, sir?” Susan asked as soon as she could speak.

He squared his shoulders. “I like it,” he said, straightening his bowtie.

Susan thought Delenn was going to suffocate with laughter.

“What’s so funny?” John leaned down to kiss her neck as she giggled.

“You,” she gasped.

“What, you don’t like my clothing selection?”

“It is your defensiveness of said clothing selection that I find funny.”

Sheridan mock-glared at her before kissing her hair. “Don’t be mean – you’re lucky I love you so much or I would be really offended.”

“I think it is charming that you went to such an effort to embody the original era of swing dance,” Delenn reassured him.

“You look stunning,” John murmured, and Delenn smiled and leaned back into his embrace.

Susan smiled politely. “I’ll let you two go and dance together. Thank you again for all of this.” She gestured around her, indicating all the contents of the ballroom.

“You are very welcome. I, for one, am very much looking forward to the rest of this night. Have a wonderful night, Susan,” said Delenn as John led her in the direction of the dance floor.

“Come on, Delenn, I’m going to teach you how to Lindy Hop!” He sounded very eager.

“Have fun!” Susan called after them. She could not help but feel a little wistful as she watched them. As excited as she was to mingle for the night, she thought that it must be nice to have someone special specifically to you to share it with.

“Well this all looks like a big old time.” Zack Allan came to stand beside her as they watched couples dancing on the floor. With swing dancing being so popular on Earth, the majority of the humans in the room knew at least the basics, and it was fun to watch them teaching their alien friends. Particularly entertaining was Garibaldi simultaneously attempting to teach both Lennier and Vir at the same time. Lennier’s movements were robotic – he was obviously attempting to reconcile what Garibaldi was showing him with what he had clearly read in the station’s database about how to swing dance (of course he had studied up ahead of time). Vir just looked confused. It was quite entertaining. 

She grinned at him. “Are you a swing dancer, Zack?”

“Eh, it’s been a couple of years.” His eyes sparkled. “Wanna help me figure out how good I still am?” He moved to stand in front of her, his hand stretched out in beckoning manner.

“Sure,” she laughed, accepting his hand and allowing herself to be led to a free spot on the dance floor.

It turned out Zack was still _quite_ good at swing dancing. He had a strong upper body, and the inertia of the swing outs he led made Susan have to concentrate hard on not losing her balance. But it was _fun_. By the time the song ended, she was laughing with joy, which made Zack break out into a wide grin.

“I guess I did okay, huh?”

“Thanks, Zack. That was really fun.”

“Same to you.”

And then, just Susan had so often at many a swing dance in the past, the two parted ways. She went over to the food table and ladled some of the punch labeled “alcoholic” into a cup and tasted it. Not bad.

“This stuff is good, is it not?” She turned to see Londo brandishing his own cup of punch. G’Kar stood beside him, as he always seemed to as of late. He looked on with an expression of disgust as his Centauri friend tilted his cup and downed the whole thing in one gulp.

“Mollari, I do not know how you can stand to ingest that stuff. It is far too sweet.”

“That is the difference between you and I, G’Kar. You cannot appreciate the simple pleasures in life.”

G’Kar scoffed. “Simple? I do not know of one single thing about the Centauri which is _simple_. You are extravagant in every way.”

“Why, thank you.” Londo grinned from ear to ear while G’Kar fumed. “I have very little idea what is going on here,” he said to Susan, “but I am having a lot of fun.” He reached for the punch ladle again.

“I’ll bet you are,” muttered G’Kar. But despite the Narn’s prickly exterior, Susan suspected he was enjoying himself as well. Susan wished them a good night and left them to more affectionate bickering and went in search of another dance.

She danced several dances in a row, some with friends and others with people who she had never seen before in her life. For quite some time, she thoroughly enjoyed herself as the old steps came back to her. She was presently surprised how adeptly she was able to pull off moves she hadn’t done in years. When she led, she still did so confidently; when she followed, she moved at the slightest of pressures on her back or lifts of her hand. She danced East Coast Swing, Lindy Hop, Charleston, Collegiate Shag, and Balboa with ease. And for a time, things were just how they had been all those years ago – before she had lost every last thing she loved.

And then it became _too_ much like those days. The band began to play “It’s Only a Paper Moon”, and the lyrics catapulted Susan back into the past. She was dancing with Ganya, slow Bal in closed embrace.

_“…but it wouldn’t be make believe, if you believed in me.”_

_I miss you, Ganya._

_Step, step, step, touch. Step, step, step, touch._

_“…just as phony as it can be…”_

Susan uttered a hard laugh that was dangerously close to a sob as she blinked herself back to the present. She had been standing at the edge of the floor, scouting out her next dance partner or waiting for someone to come and ask her – whichever happened first. But suddenly, she didn’t feel like dancing anymore.

She sat down at an empty table at the side of the large ballroom and watched couples assembling for the next song, jockeying back and forth as it began before taking the first steps of the real dance. It was less than a minute before she was joined.

“Captain.”

She rolled her eyes just a little. “Susan.”

“Captain Susan.” Marcus pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. “I still think it has a nice ring to it, don’t you? _Captain Ivanova_.”

“It’s taking a bit of getting used to,” she admitted.

“Why? The promotion is very well deserved.”

“Thanks. And I’m not going to argue with you, not after all I’ve been through in this job. But it’s just…sometimes you work so long and hard for something, and then you finally get it, and then you can’t believe you’ve gotten there? I guess that’s kind of where I am right now.”

Marcus smiled softly. “You may not realize it now, but that is a good place to be. Many would envy it.”

“I suppose.” She heaved a long sigh and scanned the crowd again, taking stock of all the happiness that was unfolding before her. “I don’t think I’ve seen you dancing tonight.”

“I haven’t been,” he confirmed simply.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know how.”

“That didn’t stop Lennier and Vir.” She spotted the two of them out on the floor. Lennier was now dancing with Delenn – both looked deeply concentrated, but they were also smiling. Vir had apparently found himself a pretty young Centauri girl to dance with, and despite her melancholy, Susan could not help but grin at the sight of it.

“They are a bit more willing to put themselves in vulnerable situations than I am,” said Marcus quietly. “If I am going to open myself up so, it has to be with the right person.” He studied her closely. “You were dancing. Why did you stop?”

For a moment, Susan considered deflecting the question. She really didn’t want to talk about this right now. The old memories suddenly felt fresher than they had in a long time, and if she dwelled on them she worried they would compromise her emotionally even more than she already was. But the way Marcus was looking at her – it was like those bright blue eyes were boring straight into her soul. And oddly, it wasn’t a bad feeling. He wanted to help. In fact, he almost seemed _desperate_ to help. She didn’t know what he could do, but since he cared that much, and deep down Susan knew that talking about it _would_ help, she decided to try.

“I don’t know if you remember, but I told you once about my brother, Ganya, who died in the war with the Minbari.”

“I remember.” It felt like Marcus’s eyes were boring holes in her, but it didn’t make her feel as uncomfortable as she intuitively thought it should have.

“It’s a small thing, really,” she murmured. “Ganya and I used to go swing dancing together sometimes, when we were at the Academy.”

“It’s not a small thing at all,” replied Marcus softly, his voice barely audible over the music. “It was something you had in common with your brother. Now he’s gone, and it’s a way you’re holding on to him. It’s natural that this night was going to bring back memories.”

Susan sighed shakily. “You make it all sound so matter-of-fact,” she said wearily. “Like grief fits into neat, pre-constructed boxes, and we always know what to expect when we open them.”

“It’s quite the opposite, really.” Marcus spoke in barely a whisper now, his eyes suddenly pointing at the table rather than at her. Guilt twisted Susan’s stomach.

“I’m sorry. I know you’ve lost your family, too. You probably understand exactly what I’m feeling.” _Or you have felt even worse, maybe._ Susan had lost all of her family, but at different times. She had had time to adjust and people to support her at each passing. Marcus had lost everyone and everything at the same time. She suppressed a shudder at the thought. That must have been horrible.

“Like I said, it’s different for all of us.” Marcus still didn’t look up, and she knew it was because he was trying not to cry. In an impulsive moment of empathy, Susan reached out and laid her hand on top of his where it rested on the table. Marcus stiffened in surprise for a moment, and his gaze shot upward to meet hers. It went from surprise to disbelief to gratefulness in a matter of milliseconds. Maintaining the gesture felt awkward to Susan, but she felt Marcus relaxing beneath her touch, so she kept her hand in place nonetheless because it seemed to be helping him.

“Thank you,” said Marcus after a time. He pulled his hand out from under hers, but before he returned it to his side, he caught her hand briefly and pressed it.

“I’d like to hear more about your family, if it’s all right with you,” he said. He was staring so earnestly at her again, and it made her smile.

“Yeah, okay.” And so she did just that. She told him about her father’s obsession with Dostoevsky, the silly pranks she and Ganya used to play on each other as children, and the way her mother played the piano so beautifully. And Marcus just listened – really _listened_ , not just pretended. He absorbed each and every word like a sponge that never got saturated.

When she had finished, she asked, “What about your family, Marcus?”

For a second, he looked like he might not say anything – the grief returned to his countenance, and Susan felt bad for asking. Maybe he was not as ready to discuss his deceased family as she had been her own. But then he took a steadying breath and looked a bit more comfortable.

“My parents ran the mining colony on Arisia. As their eldest child, I was in line to take it over before it was destroyed. I grew up thinking it was my only option in life, and therefore my calling. I was so excited about the idea of being the head of the mine one day. My parents _loved_ that mine – they gave so much of their lives to make it what it was. It is almost merciful that they both died when it was destroyed, because it would have hurt them beyond measure to see all of what they had worked for lost in a single moment.”

Susan’s hand found Marcus’s again, and this time it did not feel nearly so awkward. “They were passionate.”

He nodded. “Yes, very. The both of them. I wanted so much to make them proud. It’s a pity I never got the chance.”

“You did.” The words were sudden, said before she fully processed them, but they were matter-of-fact, and she did not regret saying them. Marcus’s eyes widened, and the pleading look in his eyes told her that she better be absolutely certain that what she was saying was true. But she had no doubt that it was. “You tried your hardest your whole life to make them happy, and you learned so much along the way. Even if they never actually got to see you take over the mine, I know they had to have been proud of you.”

Marcus swallowed, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Thank you, Susan. If I did not know you, I would say that you are only saying that to comfort me. But I know that you are an honest person, someone with integrity. If you say this, then you must truly believe it. And for that, I thank you.”

He put _so much_ trust in her. Susan felt a little taken aback by the how quick he was to put such stock in her words and in her character. She hoped she deserved it.

“And your brother – William? What was he like?”

Marcus relaxed just a bit with a soft chuckle. “Our childhood growing up together was quite similar to how it sounds yours was with Ganya – full of practical jokes and running around and petty arguments and playing together and growing close. I miss him every single day, and I forever wish that our last conversation had not been an argument.” His sigh trembled just the slightest bit. “I know longer feel the guilt I once did at all of them being dead while I still live. But I miss them. So much. All the time.”

“I know,” whispered Susan. And she did, because she felt exactly the same thing. She had known that Marcus had lost people close to him, but she had never realized before just how alike the two of them were, both in what they had experienced and the way they dealt with it. It was not exactly an ideal way to form a connection with someone, but there it was.

Susan heard the unmistakable beginning of “Bei Mir Bistu Shein”. It was another song from her past, and one that she had always thoroughly enjoyed dancing to. She pronated her palm and held it out across the table.

“Would you like to dance, Marcus?”

For a moment, Marcus’s blue eyes shown so bright that Susan thought he might burst with an almost disbelieving joy. But then his face fell, sadness blanketing his face.

“I don’t know how to dance, Susan.”

“It’s okay.” He still looked hesitant. “I promise, Marcus.”

He paused, then purposefully placed his hand in hers and stood.

“All right. What do I do?”

“Stand to my right side, and I’ll put my hand on your back, like this. Now, you rest your left hand on my upper arm – my arm, not my shoulder. There, like that. Now your other hand should hold my other hand. Good.”

“And now?”

She smiled. “And now, you just follow my lead.”

“All…all right.”

Susan started with a simple East Coast Swing. _Step, step, rock step_. At first, Marcus stumbled a little as he tried to move his body with hers, but it did not take long until they were at least moving in the same direction at the same time. And soon after that, he had gotten the steps. Susan threw in a couple of turns, an inside and an outside, and Marcus was able to follow his arm around. When he made his way back into closed position, he was smiling.

“See? You know how to dance,” Susan told him with a large grin. The size of his smile even exceeded hers.

As the song slowed down, Susan asked,

“If you weren’t really planning on dancing, why did you come to an event specifically devoted to dancing?”

Marcus lowered his gaze to their feet, moving in time quite well now, for a moment. 

“I…I was hoping to see you.” He sighed and looked up at her again. “I have a confession to make, Susan. Lately, ever since the war ended, I’ve been trying with great effort to put myself in the same place at the same time as you. I just…I want to see you, Susan.”

“Oh.” She supposed she had known that, deep down in her heart. She just hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself. She hadn’t wanted to admit that someone wanted to love her, wanted to be linked with her for any period of time. She had loved people in the past, and something bad had always happened to them. _Why_ would anyone want to love her?

But Marcus knew all of these things, and he still wanted to love her. And he had been through the same things she had. 

And then there was Talia. Talia, who had been gone for over two years. Talia, who she still thought about more than she cared to admit, because she knew that thinking about her would never bring her back. Susan had loved Talia, and even though Talia was gone, she still lived in Susan’s heart. But that was the only place she would ever live again. Susan had to admit that. It was hard. It was so, so hard and it hurt _so_ badly. But Talia would want her to be happy. That much Susan knew.

Marcus deserved to have someone to love, after all he had endured.

Did that mean that so did she?

_Bei Mir Bistu Shein, please let me explain…_

“Okay,” she said softly. His eyes widened, and she thought she felt him tremble in her arms as they moved back and forward together. _Step, step, rock step_. “We should have talked about this sooner, and I apologize. It’s just…relationships aren’t easy for me. I’ve lost a lot. I’m sure you can understand.”

“I do,” he said fervently before catching himself and toning back his enthusiasm a bit. “Believe me, I do,” he said softly. “And I appreciate you being willing to try.”

The song began to speed up. “You said that if you were going to put yourself in a vulnerable position, such as dancing, it had to be with the right person. Since this is evidence enough to suggest that I am this ‘right person’, why didn’t you ask me to dance when you saw me sitting along at the table, if you were here specifically to see me? If you’re willing to put yourself in a situation in which you are vulnerable in order to get close to me, not knowing how to dance shouldn’t have mattered.”

“A good point,” he said as he picked up his step to match her own. “When you were sitting at the table, I saw that you had stopped dancing and seemed sad, so I didn’t think it was the right time to ask you to dance. But then when you asked me to dance, I figured that dancing with you now would make you happy. Quote literature though I may, Susan, I am really quite a simple man – all I really want is for the people I care about to be happy. I want to make you happy.”

She pressed him to her body for just a moment longer than the end of the song, then released him and grinned playfully. That was enough touchy-feely stuff for one day.

“What would really make me happy was if you were better at swing dancing.”

Thankfully, he picked up on the fact that she was joking. But though this fact was obvious from his tone, she also suspected he was telling the truth when he replied,

“Then I shall endeavor to learn.”

“Good. But, anyway…” Here she went. “Do you want to go to dinner with me sometime? Say, the night after tomorrow?”

Susan didn’t think she had ever seen Marcus look so happy, and the sight of it warmed her tired heart.

_Bei Mir Bistu Shein._

_To me, you are beautiful._


	3. A Fantabulous Night To Make Romance

Two days later, at precisely 1727, Susan paced back and forth across her bedroom floor. Her closet was open, and literally every single item of clothing she owned that was not part of a military uniform was strewn haphazardly across her bed. This was stupid. She was being stupid. Why was she so indecisive about what she was going to wear to this dinner? It wasn’t like Marcus cared. She could show up in sweat pants and he wouldn’t bat an eyelash. And Susan had never been one to be overly concerned with her appearance. So _why_ was this happening _now_?

_It’ll be okay,_ she told herself. _I have two hours and three minutes until I have to meet Marcus._ She glanced at the clock. _Make that two hours and two minutes._ She could wear her red dress. No, too overstated. Brown pantsuit? Why was she even considering that? She would look like she was going to a business meeting.

Susan flopped down on the bed in the only available spot she could find that was not covered in clothes and plunged her face into her hands. Her questioning was all superficial. She knew, deep down in her heart, why she had suddenly become a stereotypical girl who couldn’t decide what to wear on a first date. It was anxiety’s way of manifesting itself. And why were her nerves so tightly sprung that they were ricocheting off the walls?

Because this was a _terrible_ idea. What had she been thinking? Asking Marcus to dinner was basically like asking him to marry her. She had never met anyone before who was so committed to _the long run_ as Marcus was. Marcus, who had openly admitted to her that he was still a virgin because he was waiting for the right person to come along. And now, it seemed, that he seemed utterly convinced that _she_ was the right person. He was crazy, and she was crazy for indulging him.

The door chime could not have sounded at a worse time.

“Go away!” she moaned. She and her quarters were in no state to be seen by _anyone._

“Only if you really want me to.”

The sound of Delenn’s gentle, knowing voice through the intercom made her relax just the tiniest bit. And that fact was evidence enough to Susan that she needed to let her friend inside.

“Come in, Delenn.”

She heard the door swing open, and a few seconds later, Delenn was moving aside clothes and sitting next to her on the bed. She laid her hand on Susan’s arm.

“Please do not take offense, but I thought I might find you in a state such as this.”

Susan emitted a short, harsh laugh. “They call you wise for a reason.”

Delenn cocked her head ever so slightly to the side. “Do they? Personally, I feel that I just understand my friends very well.”

“Then please help me to understand myself, because I’m failing, Delenn. I’m failing miserably.”

Delenn took both of Susan’s hands in her own. “If I told you all of the answers, you would learn nothing. Soul-seeking is a journey one must accomplish for themselves. We can have guides – that is what friends are for. But the only one who can truly understand you is _you_.”

For a second, frustration pricked at the edges of Susan’s consciousness. Minbari. They were always so cryptic, and Delenn tended to be one of the _most_ cryptic. But Delenn was her friend, and she was trying to help. And she _did_ have a point.

“I _want_ love, Delenn. I want to love and I want to be loved. I don’t know for certain that Marcus is the person I want to love and be loved by forever – maybe he is – but the big problem is, I’m too afraid to try. And…and I think the reason is that every time I open myself up to someone, every single time I let my guard drop just a little bit, I get hurt or they get hurt or some combination of the two happens. And so I’ve started to think that it isn’t worth it.” She cursed the tears that pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“I see,” said Delenn softly. “I know that you have been through much pain in your life, Susan, with the loss of your family, amongst other things. And I know it must seem like giving love a chance is not worth it. But you must trust me, Susan – it is. We always take a risk when we love someone, whether it be romantically or as a family member or a close friend, because we are opening up the most vulnerable parts of ourselves and exposing them to a very dangerous universe. John and I know that our careers can take us down very dangerous paths – through wars and political minefields and threats we cannot even try to imagine until they occur. And Lennier…with his health the way it has been recently, I sometimes feel as though I could lose him any day. But I love the both of them despite these risks, and I am so much happier than I would be if I allowed my fear of the risks to keep me from loving the people closest to my heart. We _do_ take a chance when we love. But it is a chance worth taking, Susan.”

She was right. Susan knew this in her heart. Love was the most wonderful sensation she had ever known. And it had been so long since she had felt it. It _was_ risky. But it was time she took that risk again.

“Okay,” she murmured. “Okay, you’ve sold me.” She tried to straighten up, but then changed her mind and pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. “But why do I still feel so nervous?”

Delenn chuckled softly. “That is quite natural, believe me. When John and I had our first date, I had insects flying in my stomach.”

Susan laughed. “You mean ‘butterflies in your stomach’’?”

“Yes, that!” she giggled. “It seems so long ago now. I knew there was much to be concerned with in dealing with him. At that time, I had recently undergone my transformation, and the relations were still strained between our two peoples. I had every reason to be nervous. But none of that mattered that night. It was just him and me. I was nervous because I wanted the date to go well because…I liked him.”

Susan smiled. She had heard the other side of that story from John. “I think he felt the same way that night.”

Delenn clasped her hands and twisted back and forth in her seat, looking like an excited child who was barely resisting the urge to jump up and down with delight. “Oh, Susan, once you get over your nervousness, you are going to be so happy. I am so excited for you and Marcus!”

“Easy, it’s only the first date,” laughed Susan. “Okay. But I still don’t know what to wear.”

“Hmm.” Delenn studied the array of clothing strewn across the bed. It only took her a matter of seconds before she settled on a lovely dress of deep purple. It was simple, yet elegant. Susan did not know why she had passed it over the first time – it was the perfect choice.

“Well? How about this one?” Delenn held the garment up for inspection.

“It’s perfect,” said Susan, unable to help but be influenced by Delenn’s infectious enthusiasm.

Delenn beamed with joy.

 

“This was the worst idea ever.” Marcus resisted the urge to go rifling through his friend’s cabinets in search of a drink to calm his nerves when he remembered that he had come to Lennier’s quarters for the specific reason that he would find no such thing there. Marcus was not an alcoholic, but that didn’t mean he didn’t sometimes turn to a good glass of _something_ to soothe him in times of great stress. But the last thing Marcus needed was to accidentally get drunk before his date. But that knowledge did not stop his stomach from doing somersaults inside his abdomen.

“Given that this dinner was technically Captain Ivanova’s idea, she might be offended to hear you say that.”

Marcus shot a glare at Lennier and was about to come back with a biting retort when a steaming up of tea was practically shoved into his hands. Not the drink he wanted, but it would have to do. He sipped experimentally, the strong spice of the Minbari drink instantly flooding his every sense. Normally he loved Minbari spiced tea, but today, just like everything else, it turned his stomach.

“I’m not going to be able to eat a thing at dinner. Susan _will_ be offended and it’s all going to go terribly wrong.”

“By telling yourself that, you are only making yourself more nervous,” Lennier pointed out, more gently this time. “The universe has a plan, Marcus. Respect that and allow it to do its work. It’s better at that than any of us.”

“What a Minbari thing to say,” Marcus sighed into his tea.

“Didn’t the Rangers teach you some kind of meditation for keeping calm during times of stress?” Vir piped up from where he sat on Lennier’s couch.

Lennier tapped a small amount of liquefied Yl’fost into a third cup of tea and brought it over to Vir, who accepted it with a smile of gratitude.

“They most certainly did,” Lennier confirmed, his voice heavy with suggestion. “Lessons Marcus might consider putting into action right about now.”

Marcus groaned softly. “I’ve _tried_. I’m too distracted to meditate.”

Lennier’s brow wrinkled with concern. “You really _are_ anxious, in that case.” He gently took Marcus by the arm and led him from where he stood in the kitchen over to the couch. Marcus, his restlessness giving way to the exhaustion brought on by his nerves, sank down into the middle cushion next to Vir. Lennier placed his cup on the table in front of the couch and then sat on Marcus’s other side. Marcus knew what he was doing. Sitting made one feel more vulnerable than standing, but by sitting him down between his friends, Lennier hoped to make Marcus feel protected and safe. Marcus almost expected his friend to swaddle him in a blanket next.

Marcus exhaled shakily. “You must think I’m crazy, overreacting like this.”

Lennier gave him a meaningful look that told him not to be ridiculous. Lennier knew how much being in love with someone could hurt, Marcus reminded himself.

“I don’t think you’re overreacting,” offered Vir. “It’s natural to be nervous with these types of things. I mean, you wait for this night for so long, and then it comes, and you wonder if it’s going to live up to your expectations, and there’s so many things that could go wrong…”

“Vir.” Lennier interrupted him with a gentle warning. “I do not think Marcus wishes to think about all the possible things that could go wrong during his dinner right now.”

“He’s right though,” said Marcus hopelessly. “That’s the problem. There are _so many_ things that could go wrong. Ways I haven’t even thought of. And trust me, I’ve thought of plenty.”

Vir, eager to make up for his mistake, said, “But think of all the things that could go right! This could be the beginning of a long and beautiful relationship!”

“Or I could say something completely wrong and terrible and ruin everything.”

“But that won’t happen!” insisted Vir. “You and Captain Ivanova have known each other for two years now. It’s not like you have to make a good first impression. You’re past that. Obviously you’ve done _something_ right, or she wouldn’t have asked you to dinner, right?”

The corners of Marcus’s mouth twitched upward a bit. “I suppose.”

“Vir makes a good point,” said Lennier. “Even if something bad _does_ happen, you will have two years’ worth of positive interactions to fall back on.”

Marcus nodded. “That’s true. You’re both right.” He addressed Lennier. “You’re an expert in probability – what are the chances something will actually go wrong tonight?”

Lennier smiled. “Less than I am sure you believe.” He did not elaborate further. Marcus didn’t know if that made his nervousness better or worse. He sighed.

“Dinner. Such a simple thing. Necessary for life, in fact. And yet we humans turned it into a courting ritual.”

“The Minbari have done the same with sleep,” Lennier pointed out matter-of-factly. “I think it is in the nature of most, if not all sentient races, to take simple life activities and use them to grow closer to others, whether it be romantically or in friendship.”

“What do you mean, the Minbari court with sleep?” Vir looked confused.

“It is the first of what can be as many as fifty courting rituals before a Minbari marriage,” explained Lennier. He chuckled at the way Vir’s eyes widened at the number. “When two Minbari are considering pursuing a romantic relationship, the female watches the male while he sleeps for a total of three nights. We believe that when we are awake, we put on the face we want the world to see. But at night, while we sleep, our true face is revealed. That is how it is determined if the relationship will continue – whether or not the female perceives the male to be worthy of her based on his true face.”

“Fascinating.” Vir was sitting forward in his seat. “But I don’t think I could sleep with someone watching me. I’d be too self-conscious to ever nod off.”

Lennier smiled softly. “It is not so hard, if it is someone you love,” he murmured, and Marcus knew he was thinking back to all those times Delenn had watched over him while he was ill. Many times her presence was the only thing that could calm his fever-induced anxiety or soothe his pain enough for him to rest. While the relationship between Lennier and Delenn was not a romantic one, their love for one another was among the strongest Marcus had ever witnessed. Marcus had to admit that he envied them a bit – how wonderful it must be to have a bond so strong that it preserved life when all odds were against it.

He distracted himself from his wishful thinking with a question. “Vir, what are Centauri courtship rituals like?”

“We don’t really have them,” said Vir with a shake of his head. “Centauri marriages are almost always arranged by the families of the bride and groom.”

Lennier blinked in wide-eyed shock. “But what if they are not properly suited for one another?”

Vir shrugged. “We have learned over many, many years of doing things this way that if two people spend enough time just talking and getting to know one another, more often than not they find things they have in common, and then they can use those things as a foundation upon which to build their relationship. It’s not perfect – personally, I want to marry for love. But the Centauri are a very traditional society. Quite like the Minbari in that way, actually. Just…different. Very different.”

“Very different indeed,” said Lennier, who looked like he was trying to process what he had just been told.

Marcus could not help but chuckle a bit. What a wonderful universe they lived in, where such different people could learn from each other and be such good friends. If something as unheard of as a Minbari and a Centauri being friends could happen, why something as common as a date go well?

There was that probability thing again.

 

 

Susan wrapped and rewrapped her fingers around her clutch almost reflexively as she walked. She _hated_ wearing fancy shoes – they were impractical and they were already scraping the backs of her heels. Why weren’t military-issued shoes socially acceptable to wear everywhere, even one was off-duty? They were so much more comfortable than stupid heels. Yes, her current footwear was far more aesthetically attractive, but she was rapidly beginning to think that this was not worth the pain.

She forgot about her forming blisters, however, when she arrived at The Shooting Star restaurant. She had asked Marcus at the dance if he had any particular preference for where they shared their dinner, to which he had immediately responded that they could go absolutely anywhere Susan wished. Of course. She hadn’t really expected a different answer, but she would have felt bad if she hadn’t asked and given him the opportunity to suggest somewhere.

So, deciding on the location of the dinner had been left up to Susan. Normally when she went to dinner with friends, she loved being allowed to decide where to go. She was so busy all the time that going out to dinner was a special occasion under any circumstances, and the best way to maximize that specialness was for _her_ to get to decide where she ate. But tonight, the responsibility just added more stress for her. She had to get it right – it couldn’t be too fancy, because she didn’t want to overwhelm Marcus or make him uncomfortable (and honestly, she’d probably be a little uncomfortable too). But obviously it couldn’t be too dumpy. She had to find some place in between. And it had to be somewhere with a good variety of choices, because she didn’t really know what Marcus liked to eat, and she didn’t want him to have to eat something he didn’t like and therefore ruin his experience. It was too much responsibility, and she thought she was being ridiculous. But she couldn’t help it.

But the previous afternoon, just when she had been starting to get _quite_ agitated about not having picked a location yet, she had happened to overhear a conversation in the corridor while walking to her office. The Shooting Star had recently received a shipment of shrimp.

_Shrimp._

Susan _loved_ shrimp. But since they cost so much to import from Earth due to storage concerns, she barely ever got to eat them. But very occasionally, The Shooting Star managed to get a shipment in. It generally wasn’t publicized when this occurred – you had to know people. But since Susan was, after all, the captain of the entire station, she had no doubt she could get some of the rare cuisine for herself. And put it on top of a Caesar salad, which was one of her absolute favorite things in the whole universe.

So that decided that, then. And now that she thought about it, the Shooting Star actually did meet all of her stipulations for an acceptable date location. It was just the right balance between upscale and casual, and it was in a quiet corner of the Zocalo. It was also one of her favorite restaurants, which was good because the more she kept familiar during this dinner, the better. And it had a nice view – it was called “The Shooting Star” for a reason. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before. Mild panic, probably.

Marcus was standing near the front door of the restaurant when she approached. She didn’t think she had ever seen him without his Ranger robes before, but he had managed to scrounge up a dinner jacket and slacks from somewhere. It wasn’t a bad look for him. She saw him before he saw her, and she watched him shift his weight from foot to foot. She wondered if he was just as nervous as she was. She wasn’t sure if that thought made her feel better or worse.

But then he turned and saw her, and his face lit up. He was so happy to see her. Susan had dated a lot of people, and she didn’t think that any of them had ever seemed that happy to see her before. And she had to admit – she was happy to see him, too.

As she approached, Marcus bowed slightly.

“Good evening.” He straightened and looked her up and down, seemingly in awe. “You look lovely, Susan.” There was such a genuine quality to his words – he really meant them. But then again, Marcus had never been one to say things he didn’t truly mean.

“Thank you. And you…clean up well.” _Damn it. That wasn’t the right thing to say. Insult him right off the bat, why don’t you, Susan?_

But to her relief, Marcus chuckled. “Occasionally I do try, I promise. Shall we go in?” He offered her his arm, and after a moment’s hesitation at the somewhat outdated gesture, she took it.

Susan had reserved a table by one of the windows, and the host seated them there and handed them their menus. Marcus stared out the window, fascinated.

Susan laughed. “It’s space. You see it every day.”

“I know,” he replied. “But somehow it just seems prettier tonight. Maybe it’s the company.”

She blushed slightly. “You should figure out what you want to eat.”

“Right. Menu.” Marcus set to work studying the list in front of him, and stayed that way until the server came a couple of minutes later to take their order. The restaurant was casual enough that they were able to order their food at the same time as their drinks. Both ordered red wine. Susan happily asked for her Caesar salad with shrimp, and Marcus ordered a chicken and mushroom dish with broccoli.

And then the server was gone, and the menus were gone, and there was nothing to distract them from talking to each other. Marcus merely gazed at Susan happily, looking almost star struck.

“Marcus.”

“Hmm?” He blinked, as though being woken from a happy dream.

“Are we going to talk, or are we just going to stare at each other?”

“Whatever you want to do.”

This was going to be one _long_ evening.

 

Marcus knew he should try harder to interact with Susan instead of just staring at her. But he just couldn’t seem to wrap his brain around the fact that he was _finally_ , after two whole years, exactly where he wanted to be. He was on a date with Captain Susan Ivanova, the woman he loved more than anything in the universe. And she looked very pretty.

But she was getting annoyed with his reticence. _Time to wake up, Marcus._ He didn’t know why this was so hard. They had managed to carry on a deep conversation with relative ease only two nights prior. So why, then, were they now reduced to talking about Babylon 5’s current maintenance worker deficit?

“It’s just that no one seems to want to come here, which doesn’t really make sense now that the war is over. We have really important people here – the president of the ISA, the head of the Rangers, all the ambassadors…”

“You.”

She rolled her eyes. “But I guess with all the danger and tension surrounding this place in the past, maybe people are scared of it.”

“Maybe.”

“Marcus!”

“What?” He sat up and blinked. She sounded annoyed.

“Aren’t you going to say _anything_? Like actually _say_ something, not just one-word responses to what I say? Because if not, we’re both going to be really bored. A conversation generally requires at least two people.”

“Oh.” _Now you’ve spoiled things, Marcus Cole._ “I’m sorry. This is all just…more overwhelming than I anticipated, I suppose.”

“I overwhelm you?”

Alarm bells went off inside Marcus’s head. “It’s not _you_ , it’s just that…” He swallowed hard, trying to make his throat feel less dry. “I’ve waited so long for this day, and now that it’s really here I’m suddenly at a loss of what to do. Oh, I _knew_ this would happen. Everything’s gone wrong. I’m sorry, Susan.”

Susan sighed, and all of the annoyance vanished from her eyes. “Marcus.” The understanding in her voice made him feel a little less upset. “Everything hasn’t gone wrong. But please, promise me you’ll stop putting me on a pedestal. This isn’t going to work if you keep doing that.”

She was right, of course. Susan was always right. But she wasn’t angry with him. Marcus relaxed a bit.

“All right. I’ll try.” He managed a little smile, and she returned it.

For a moment, it seemed as though the date was salvageable. But it was interrupted by the arrival of the server with their food. Marcus smiled his thanks as his food was placed in front of him. The smell was tantalizing, and since he was feeling a little less nervous now, he might actually be able to enjoy his food a little. He cut off a piece of mushroom-doused chicken with his fork and ate it.

“Delicious,” he stated. But the joy his food was bringing him seemed to be nothing in comparison to what Susan was experiencing.

“This,” she said through a mouthful of salad, “is _amazing_.” She finished chewing and swallowed. “All Caesar salads should have shrimp on them. All of them. Ever.”

Marcus leaned forward to examine her food curiously. “Forgive me, but I thought we couldn’t get shrimp on Babylon 5?”

She grinned. “You can’t, generally.”

He raised an eyebrow in jest. “But you have connections? Know important people?”

“I know the captain of the station!”

“But shrimp aren’t kosher, are they?”

“Don’t tell my rabbi.”

They both laughed.

“You know,” said Marcus thoughtfully, “I think I’ve only had shrimp once in my life.”

“Only once?” Susan asked incredulously. “That’s terrible. It’s one of my favorite foods, but with the import difficulties I don’t get it nearly enough.”

“When I was a child, my parents received some as a gift from some diplomat who came to visit the colony. William and I both tried it. We were very young. I remember he didn’t like it.” He chuckled.

“And you? Did you like it?”

Marcus thought back. “I honestly don’t remember. It was so long ago.”

Susan gestured to her salad with her fork. “Try some.”

Marcus shook his head. “No, I couldn’t. You love it so much, you should enjoy it.”

“The enjoyment of things we love is enhanced when we share it with other people. Eat.” She poked toward the salad with her fork again, but with more enthusiasm this time.

She had a point.

“Thank you.” Marcus speared a dressing-coated shrimp and a bit of parmesan-dusted romaine with his fork and chewed slowly, letting the flavors seep over his tongue. He wanted so much to like it, to have something to share with Susan.

But there was no help for it – the young William had been right. Marcus didn’t know specifically what it was about the shrimp that he didn’t like, but it was awful. He tried desperately to think of some way to sugarcoat how terrible it was – he was still grateful Susan had offered to let him try it, but it was too late. Susan had seen in his face exactly how he felt.

“You really hate it,” she said as he swallowed and immediately took a gratuitous swig of his wine.

“No,” he countered, hating how disheartened she sounded. “I don’t _hate_ it. It’s just…I’m sure there are other foods that we both like. Like…” he cast his gaze over the table. “…red wine. Clearly we both like that. We both ordered it, we’re both drinking it…”

“Marcus.” Susan broke him off. “You could have just said you didn’t like the shrimp. You don’t have to euphemize it. I’m not offended or anything. I’m made of a _little_ tougher stuff than that.” She chuckled.

His stomach was suddenly doing somersaults again. “No, of course. That’s not what I meant, Susan…”

“Marcus, it’s okay. Really.” She was laughing a little. _Laughing at me,_ his inner voice said. The somersaults in his stomach had turned into cramps, so painful that they made him want to curl up. He’d been nervous and anxious before, but they had never caused him to feel like _this_. Why was he letting this bother him so much? He swallowed past a lump in his throat. Then he immediately swallowed again, past a much _bigger_ lump this time. It was so big it was making it hard to breathe, and the next time he inhaled, the intake of air was accompanied by a hoarse, honking gasp.

Susan, of course, noticed that. She furrowed her brow at him. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. It was kind of hard to tell because his vision had gone suddenly blurry.

“Marcus? Are you okay?” She might have squinted again. “Marcus? Oh God, you’re _really_ pale.”

“I…” All he could manage by this time was a whisper. “I…I think I…” But he couldn’t communicate well enough to get his point across. So he tried to stand up, which turned out to be a terrible idea. The second he attempted it, the room spun around him, and for a moment, Marcus had the almost euphoric sensation of being on a carnival ride.

But it was terribly brief, because then everything went black.


	4. But It Wouldn’t Be Make Believe If You Believed In Me

Susan didn’t go to Medlab.

She knew she should. More than anything, she wanted Marcus to be okay. But if he was – _if_ he was, and she didn’t even know if he was – it wouldn’t have been any of her doing. Because when Marcus had lost consciousness, she hadn’t been able to do _anything_. Not a damn thing. The people at the table next to them had seen Marcus crumple to the floor, and one of them had screamed. At some point in the chaos, Medlab had been called and Stephen and his team of medics had come and put Marcus on a gurney and rushed him off to Medlab at top speed. Stephen had gone with them, but one of the medics had stayed behind to take a hurried history from the shaken Susan, who had managed to tell her story despite feeling like she was on the verge of passing out herself. Then that medic had left, too, and Susan had been left all alone in the restaurant. Several people had asked her if she needed anything, but she had shaken her head without a word. Finally, she had realized there was nothing to do but go back to her quarters.

Now, she sat on her bed with her knees pulled up to her chest, staring at the wall, trying not to think. Trying not to think about watching Marcus go pale and then pass out, or how useless she was, or how she should be in Medlab with him right now instead of holed up in her room feeling sorry for herself. But as much as she knew where she _should_ be, she couldn’t bring herself to go there. Because even though she wanted so much to know the outcome of all of this, she was scared of what she might find.

She lost all track of time sitting there. It might have been hours later when the door chime sounded and Delenn’s voice traveled through her intercom for the second time that day.

“Susan?”

She sounded concerned. Exactly whom that concern was for, Susan wasn’t sure. But she didn’t want to talk to anyone. The nervousness about the date that Delenn had comforted her through a mere few hours ago seemed so petty and stupid now.

_Stupid_. How could she have allowed herself to believe that this time would be any different? She’d had to tempt fate one more time, and it had knocked her backward so hard and so quickly that it was hard to catch her breath. Every time she decided to open up to someone, someone got hurt. She shouldn’t have tried to see if this time might be an exception.

“Susan.” It wasn’t a question this time. “I know you are in there. And I know how upset and scared you are right now. I have tried to go through what you are experiencing alone, so trust me when I say that this is better faced with a friend by your side.”

Susan sniffled. Delenn was right – she would know. She had been in Susan’s place many times recently as she had seen Lennier through a series of very serious illnesses. And now that Susan had heard her friend’s voice, she realized she didn’t want to be alone anymore.

“Come…come in,” she whispered shakily, just loud enough for the intercom to pick it up and open the door for Delenn. A matter of seconds later, Susan’s friend was holding her in her arms as she sobbed into her shoulder.

“He is not dead,” Delenn whispered as she pressed her close.

“He…he’s not?” Susan hiccupped, wondering why Delenn hadn’t said this in the first place. She pulled out of the embrace to look her friend in the eyes.

“No, and Stephen thinks he is stable for now. But they are monitoring him closely in the intensive care unit for at least the next few hours, in case his blood pressure drops again.”

“Oh God,” whispered Susan. So Marcus could still die – that was why Delenn had not reassured her immediately. “I did this, didn’t I? That _was_ an anaphylactic response. I kept thinking that he passed out right after he ate the shrimp. He said he’d only eaten shrimp once before, and I know that most food allergies manifest the second time you eat the food, and shellfish is a really common food allergy in adult humans, and the medic was asking a lot of questions about what he’d been eating…” She trailed off, and then her eyes widened with realization. “Delenn, he didn’t _want_ to try the shrimp. I _insisted_ he try it. This never would have happened if I didn’t make him try it…”

“Susan,” Delenn murmured gently as she tucked an aberrant lock of hair behind Susan’s ear. “Yes, that is what happened. Doctor Franklin has diagnosed Marcus with anaphylactic shock due to a shellfish allergy. But you did not _make_ Marcus try the shrimp. No one can really _make_ Marcus do anything. He is decidedly one of the most stubborn people I have ever met, and I know a great many _very_ stubborn people.”

Susan tried to laugh but it can out more of a choke as her tears continued to fall.

“He is that,” she conceded. “But every _single_ time I get close to someone, they get hurt, or worse. I put Marcus in danger by association.”

“This is not your fault, Susan,” Delenn said. Susan sniffled and looked at her with an expression that said she wanted to believe her, but couldn’t. Delenn ran her hand up and down Susan’s arm reassuringly. “I know how easy it is to fall into that trap, believe me. When Lennier got sick the first time, I was so convinced that if I had _only_ paid more attention, I would have realized something was wrong and things would never have gotten so bad. It took him and several other people quite some time to talk me out of that. But then it happened all over again, and you can probably imagine how much more guilt I felt then.” She took a shaky breath, and Susan felt an even further pang of guilt that her friend needed to call upon such terrible memories to try to help her. “The remorse I felt was, I think, a way to punish myself for this perceived wrongdoing. But I became encompassed by it, and it took me much longer than it should have to realize that my guilt was hurting both myself and Lennier more than what I was so busy imaging myself to be culpable of.”

“Lennier’s so perceptive,” said Susan. She remembered the time Zack Allan had told her about not wanting a new uniform – he hadn’t even recognized that it was because of his aversion to admitting that Garibaldi wasn’t going to be taking his job as Head of Security back until Lennier, whom he barely knew, had pointed it out to him. “I’ll bet he saw through any façade you tried to put up.”

Delenn nodded. “I tried to conceal the way I felt, but of course it was no use. Even though he barely had the strength to talk, he could see my regret. And it made everything so much worse for him, because of course in his mind _my_ guilt was _his_ fault, because if he hadn’t fallen ill, I wouldn’t have had anything to feel guilty about. And he hates the idea of hurting me in any way.” Delenn pulled her knees up to her chest and bit her bottom lip.

“That’s a vicious cycle,” Susan murmured. “And I’m sorry the both of you had to go through that. But I thought Stephen said that Lennier getting sick was inevitable? So it would have happened no matter what you did.”

Delenn nodded wisely as she unfolded herself. “That is correct. But when one is upset, even the things that don’t necessarily make sense to feel guilty for can tear apart our self-image and torture us. That is understandable, but we must not fail to realize that the guilt is a product of our troubled hearts and minds. Please, Susan. I have made this mistake more than is necessary for the both of us. Do not suffer more than you already are.”

“Delenn, I…” Susan shook her head. Delenn had bared her soul to her, but apparently Susan was just too damned stubborn for it to have any effect. Yet another thing for her to feel guilty about. “I wish I didn’t have to. I do. But no matter what I do, I _can’t_ shake this voice saying that this is my fault.”

With grief in her eyes, Delenn grabbed Susan’s hand with great fervor. “Go and sit with him, Susan. Even if he cannot hear you – and although he remains unconscious, I am not entirely unconvinced that he cannot – there is a chance he will know you are there. It is soothing, in an odd way, to sit bedside vigil. Because if there is the slightest chance that your presence can help, that they can hear you and be comforted – it is worth it, Susan.”

“No,” whispered Susan, her tears picking up again. “Delenn, I…I can’t. I could have killed him, I almost did. He could still die. How can I _face_ him after that? How can I ever face him again?”

“He will be heartbroken if he does not ever see you again,” Delenn told her softly. “I know you are upset, so if you require time, then that is all right. But do not wait too long, Susan. Please trust me when I say that your heart will be better for it.”

With eyes still pouring tears, Susan watched Delenn as she stood. “I ought to go and check on Marcus, and on Lennier and Vir, who have been sitting with him since he was admitted. I would encourage you to accompany me, but you may stay if you wish.”

Susan hunched over and hugged herself. There was no way she was going anywhere. Especially not to Medlab.

Delenn seemed to get the message. “All right. Will you be all right by yourself?”

_No_. “I think so. Thank you, Delenn. I’m sorry I can’t follow your advice. It’s my fault, not yours.”

Looking heartbroken, Delenn squeezed her hand for a moment, and then left. The moment she was gone, Susan dissolved into tears once more.

_Oh, Marcus. I’m so, so sorry. For everything._

 

Everything was heavy.

That was the first thing Marcus became aware of as he woke. _Everything_ – his eyelids, his head, his limbs, even his tongue, felt swollen and heavy. And while that was unsettling, he was otherwise quite comfortable and warm, lying in what seemed to be a bed.

But he hadn’t gone to sleep in a bed.

Susan. The date. Something had gone very wrong.

Marcus forced his eyes open, which took considerable effort, and looked around. _Medlab_. He ought to have expected that – his last memories were of not feeling well at all, so this made sense. But what had happened? And where was Susan? Was she all right? Had whatever affected him so badly hurt her as well?

As Marcus slowly became more aware, he took in his own state and his surroundings more closely. He was propped up in a bed, not only in Medlab, but in the ICU. A monitor beeped softly and steadily above his head, and there was a pulse oximeter clipped to his finger and a steady drip of fluids running into a catheter taped in the crook of his elbow. Three chairs sat next to his bed, and all of them were occupied, though their occupants appeared to be asleep. On the end closest to his head sat Delenn, wrapped in her favorite red and gold shawl, and in the middle, Lennier, his robes uncharacteristically mussed. Delenn’s head was nestled in the crook of Lennier’s neck, and Lennier’s cheek rested atop her hair. Lennier’s hand lay on Vir’s arm where the Centauri sat on his other side, hunched over in his chair, his hair crest drooping. Marcus saw that all of his friends’ faces seemed drawn and worried, even in sleep.

He wished he could let them all sleep – it looked as though they needed it – but Susan wasn’t there and he had to know that she was all right. He opened his mouth and tried to talk, to ask about Susan, but his stupid swollen tongue and swollen lips wouldn’t make the sound he wanted them to. All he managed was a hoarse little incoherent noise, and he wasn’t even sure if it was loud enough for his dozing friends to hear.

But Lennier’s sensitive Minbari ears picked it up. He blinked awake and was immediately alert.

“Marcus! You’re awake. Thank Valen you’re awake. Delenn. Delenn, Vir, he’s awake.” He shook Delenn’s shoulder lightly until she opened her eyes, and the motion brought Vir around as well.

“Marcus! It is very good to see you awake.” Delenn looked positively delighted. “Lennier, could you go and fetch Doctor Franklin?”

Lennier nodded and scurried off, while Vir sat forward to study his friend with wide eyes.

“Marcus…are you okay?”

He sounded so worried, but as much as Marcus wished to calm his fears, that wasn’t the most vital thing right now. He licked his lips and tried once more to form the most important word in his vocabulary – the name that meant more to him than anything in the universe.

“Su…Susan?” There. He’d done it.

Vir looked mildly confused, but Delenn understood. “You had a very bad allergic reaction to the shrimp you ate at dinner, Marcus. Susan is just fine.”

Well, that was reassuring at least. But that didn’t explain Susan’s absence.

“W…where?” He swallowed – talking was becoming marginally less taxing now.

“She…” Delenn exchanged a glance with Vir, and even in his compromised state Marcus did not miss the pain in Delenn’s eyes and the worry in Vir’s. He felt anxiety flutter in his chest. “She is in her quarters. She wanted to be here, Marcus, but she couldn’t.”

“Why?” If she wanted to be there, what was keeping her? And had she been worried about him? Or worse, did she feel bad about what happened? It wasn’t her fault at all; it had been a stupid accident. Marcus didn’t want Susan to be upset or worried. He just wanted to see her, to let her know that he was all right. That was, if she still cared whether or not he _was_ all right.

Before Delenn could answer Marcus’s question, Stephen entered the room, flanked by Lennier, who retook his place next to Delenn. Marcus hadn’t noticed the dark shadows under Lennier’s eyes before, or how puffy Vir’s eyes looked. He wondered how long he had been unconscious.

Stephen squinted up at the vitals monitor above Marcus’s head. “Ninety over sixty. Not great, but definitely better.”

Marcus snorted softly. “Do I get a ‘welcome back’?” There, he’d managed to get a full sentence out that time.

Franklin smirked. “Only if you promise to stay. But I guess since you’re awake now, it’s very likely we’ll keep you with us in this life for awhile longer.”

“Oh. Well, that’s encouraging, I suppose.” Marcus sighed and then suddenly squeezed shut his eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over him.

“Room spinning?” Stephen’s eyebrow was cocked when Marcus opened his eyes.

“Yes,” mumbled Marcus. “Though I suppose that has something to do with the fact that my blood pressure is in the lavatory.”

“That would be the general idea,” chuckled Franklin. “But considering the speed with which you went into anaphylactic shock ten hours ago, you’re actually not doing too bad.”

“I’d beg to differ,” Marcus muttered. He felt awful – dizzy and weak and shaky. But at least nothing hurt, unlike the last time he had woken up in a Medlab bed. That time had involved a severe concussion, three broken ribs, bruises over what felt like every centimeter of his body, and a mildly disconcerted Warrior Caste Minbari in the middle of a revelation. So maybe, all in all, he wasn’t so bad off.

Stephen did look a bit sympathetic, which Marcus counted as a personal victory.

“Do you need anything?”

_Susan. More than anything._ “Not for now.”

“Okay. We’ll keep you on a good rate of fluids to make sure that BP keeps climbing. Try to rest.”

“I’ll try,” Marcus sighed as Stephen left. As soon as he was gone, Marcus turned his attention back to the thing that permeated his every thought.

“Delenn, why isn’t Susan here?”

Once again, Delenn looked uncomfortable, upset even. But her reaction was nothing compared to Lennier’s – his eyes blazed with anger. Lennier was a monk trained in the art of meditation, and he was by nature a calm and reasonable person. It took a _lot_ to get him visibly angry. But he was now. Delenn glanced over at him, and seeing his reaction made her look even sadder.

“I am afraid Susan blames herself for what happened to you,” she said softly. “She is terribly worried about you, and she _wants_ to be here, Marcus. She does.”

“Then she should be,” muttered Lennier. Delenn met his gaze again, this time with warning. He held her gaze with a half second of rare defiance before backing down, looking profoundly unhappy. They had argued about this while he was unconscious, Marcus realized. But any time he might have had to reflect on the rarity of this occurrence was tempered by his urgency to make sure Susan was all right.

“She feels guilty?” No, no that wasn’t right. This wasn’t Susan’s fault. And then it hit him. “Oh, god. I really did ruin the dinner. She fears so much losing the people she loves, and I made that fear come true.”

“Not truly,” Delenn soothed. “You are alive. Susan _does_ most fear losing those she loves, but you are still here with us. She just needs time. Doctor Franklin is probably talking to her right now, so she will know that you are awake and not have to worry about you dying anymore. I believe that, in time, she will feel able to come see you.”

“She should have been here hours ago.” Lennier was clearly unable to contain himself any longer. His voice was dark and accusatory. Vir, caught in the figurative middle of the crossfire, physically hunkered down by hunching over as Delenn whirled.

“Lennier!” She looked horrified and angry.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but to you only. I am not sorry for saying it. You explained to her that none of this was her fault and that she shouldn’t feel guilty.”

“Explanations and reassurances of innocence have not stopped _you_ from feeling guilty in the past,” Delenn pointed out. Her tone was firm, but not accusatory.

Lennier sighed. “I know. But she knows how Marcus feels about her. She _must_ by now. It isn’t fair for him not to have had the person he cares most about at his side while he was unconscious. Because it helps, and it’s important. I…I know. I’ve experienced it.” He folded his arms across his chest and hugged himself. “I apologize to all of you. I know the Captain is upset and that the effect is worsened by previous experiences. I ought to be more understanding. I just…I…I don’t know.” He sighed deeply and then was quiet; his eyes cast downward, the picture of a timid Religious Caste novitiate.

Delenn slowly reached out and took Lennier’s hand, and he did not resist. He gradually raised his gaze until it met Delenn’s and at the sight of the love and forgiveness in her eyes, he relaxed.

“I’m sorry if I gave you a fright, Lennier,” Marcus said softly, and Lennier’s eyes snapped upward to meet his – first with surprise, then understanding.

“I’m sorry to all of you,” Marcus continued, and Delenn and Vir both managed little smiles.

“Frighten us you _definitely_ did,” confirmed Vir. “But it’s okay. As long as you’re okay.”

The corners of Marcus’s mouth twitched upward. “I think I am. Thank you all for looking after me. It’s very kind and you’re very good friends.”

It was all very true. Marcus was so grateful. And he tried so hard not to sound disappointed. But he just couldn’t help it.

“But you wish the Captain were here with you,” Vir said. He didn’t sound sad or offended, like he was upset that Marcus was skimming over his presence for concern over lack of Susan’s. He was simply stating a fact.

Marcus almost nodded, but remembered himself at the last moment – the action would likely make him dizzy again.

“Yes,” he said. “I do.” He sounded sad to his own ears. What a pathetic creature he was. But honestly, at this moment, he didn’t care. He just wanted Susan there with him, so he could let her see that he was all right and apologize for scaring her and making her horrible worries an almost reality and just to _see_ her. That was all he wanted.

A determined look settled on Lennier’s face, and without a word he rose and stalked out of the room. Delenn looked after him, worry written all over her countenance. For a moment, it seemed as though she would follow him, but then she seemed to change her mind, and sat back in her chair. Marcus wanted to inquire what was going on, but suddenly he felt the rather overwhelming urge to go back to sleep. Delenn noticed and smiled at him, though the smile was troubled.

“You should rest, Marcus. You have been through much, and your body needs to recover.”

_True, but what inconvenient timing,_ Marcus lamented even as his eyelids fluttered closed.


	5. But Of All These Things, I Like You Best Of All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I lied again. Since I'm starting another crazy month at school tomorrow, I went ahead and posted this (the final) chapter today. Enjoy, everyone, and please leave comments!

Susan assumed that the door chime would be Delenn again, so she opened the door without first asking who was there. She was startled to find not Delenn, but Lennier, standing at her threshold. He looked both as physically exhausted and world-weary as she felt.

“Lennier.” She blinked in surprise to see him standing there, and took a step backward. “I…I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting…please, come in.”

Lennier hesitantly stepped into her quarters, formed his hands into the triangle that was so characteristic of the Religious Caste and bowed with his usual respect. But there was also something else there, Susan thought – a sense of urgency that permeated his movements and seemed to radiate off of him in low yet detectable levels.

“I apologize for my unexpected intrusion during this difficult time,” he said. “I know Delenn and Doctor Franklin have spoken with you about Marcus.”

“How is he?” Stephen had been there only about half an hour ago to reassure her that Marcus was awake and his life was no longer in danger. While this news had soothed her worry considerably, it did nothing for her deep unsettlement and guilt. Nor did it at all waylay how convinced she was that Marcus should not want anything to do with her after she had almost killed him with her shrimp and her stupid curse that said she couldn’t get close to anyone without them getting hurt. But for the past nearly twelve hours, she had not been able to get that horrible moment out of her mind as she had watched Marcus crumple to the floor. It kept playing over and over again, like a defective vid recording caught in the same loop. And the more it played, the more worried she became, reassurances by the doctor or not.

“He is resting. The incident has left him very tired. Physically, however, the doctor says he will be all right. But Captain, please forgive my directness when I say that you _must_ go to Marcus.” There was that urgency again, burning in his eyes. “All he could do when he woke was ask for you. He spared no thought for his own state of health, although obviously it was in considerable disrepair. All he cared about was you – making sure you were all right and wanting to know where you were. Delenn told him you wanted to be there but couldn’t, and the way his face fell when he heard that – if you had seen it, you would understand _why_ you _have_ to go to him. Please.”

Anger flared in Susan’s chest. Who did this little Minbari twerp think he was, coming in here and telling her how to live her life and handle her personal relationships, especially now when she had just spent the last twelve hours terrified and bawling her eyes out? He was not her superior officer, nor was he her rabbi. But the anger fizzled and died when she realized that what he _was_ was Marcus’s friend. Marcus, whose feelings here mattered just as much as her own. She was being selfish, after all she had already put him through.

“He asked for me?” she inquired softly.

“Yes,” confirmed Lennier.

“And you came on his behalf?”

“He is not up to it himself yet. Even if he were, he would not intrude upon you without your permission.”

 _Of course. That is why it took us two years to have dinner together._ “So Delenn didn’t send you here, then?”

Lennier blinked in surprise at the question. For a moment, she anticipated his shoulders sagging in defeat, but they remained square and upright. “No. I believe she wishes I had not come.” His voice was quiet and sad, but there was no regret in it. “But the both of us care about Marcus and want what is best for him. And right now, that is you. When you’re sick, you need the people you love the most and who love you back to be there with you. It…it’s the most important thing.”

 _You would know,_ thought Susan. _And you’re right._ This didn’t have to be the moment when she and Marcus decided they were going to be together forever. It didn’t have to happen now. But what _did_ have to happen now was that Susan needed to be there for Marcus, because she cared about him, and because he had asked.

“Okay,” she said in a voice that was barely audible even to her own ears. “Okay.” She spoke louder that time. “You’re right. I’ll go now.”

“Thank you.” Lennier looked relieved as he bowed low. He then straightened and turned for the door, but Susan called after him.

“Lennier.” He turned and regarded her expectantly. “Delenn knows why you came here. She has to be proud of you.”

Lennier’s smile flooded into his tired eyes. “She is. She wished to spare your feelings and give you more time to decide what to do, but she knows why I did what I did, and she approves of my motivations. Much of what Minbari do is for the benefit of others. Sometimes those actions clash. But that does not make them wrong, and Delenn knows that.” He bowed once more, and then was gone.

 _We hurt because we care,_ Susan thought with bitter irony. _But at least we do care._

About twenty minutes later, she had changed into something at least somewhat presentable and managed to put on enough make up to hide the worst of her swollen eyes and tear blotches and now stood at the door of Marcus’s ICU room. Lennier had returned, and was sitting with Delenn at Marcus’s bedside. Vir was nowhere to be found – Susan imagined he’d been called away by Londo now that Marcus’s bedside vigil for potential death was over. She shuddered at the thought. Lennier was right – she should have come here a long time ago.

Susan stood in the doorway, looking at the sleeping Marcus all hooked up to monitors and fluids, and felt her heart turn inside her chest. She had never enjoyed being in a hospital setting, and she detested it even more since her father’s relatively recent illness and death. He had been in a hospital during their final conversation. And it was unsettling to see Marcus like that. It seemed as though the one thing she had come to be able to depend on, never mind wars or political strife or personal problems, was Marcus. She had never realized it before, but he was always there, whether she wanted him to be or not. Except she was beginning to realize that she _did_ want him to be there, now that he almost hadn’t been.

Lennier and Delenn both became aware of her presence as she looked into the room, and they turned to look at her, Delenn with surprise that turned to pride and Lennier with a small, grateful smile.

“Susan,” said Delenn, getting to her feet and coming over to grasp both of Susan’s hands. “You came.”

Susan nodded. “Yes. Lennier convinced me that I should. He advocates for his friends very well – you should be proud.”

Delenn looked back over her shoulder at Lennier, who was still sitting vigil at Marcus’s side. “I am.” There was love in her eyes, and Lennier seemed to radiate joy at her approval.

“Come, Lennier,” Delenn said, holding out her hand to him. “We should allow the Captain and Marcus some time together.”

Lennier glanced once more at his recuperating friend before rising and taking Delenn’s hand.

“He is only asleep,” he told Susan. “He will wake, if you bid him.”

Susan nodded and watched them leave. And then it was only her and Marcus in the room. 

And suddenly she was afraid. So terribly afraid. _Stupidly_ afraid. Because if she went down this road, everything bad would happen all over again. Marcus would keep getting hurt – there was no way she could shake the curse.

 _I’m sorry, Marcus. This is for your own good,_ she thought as she turned to leave. But just as she did, she heard a voice from behind her.

“Susan?”

She turned back around and saw that Marcus had opened his eyes and was watching her. The joy on his face shattered her heart into a million pieces.

“Susan, you’re here.”

She forced a smile as she came to sit in one of the chairs vacated by their friends. “Here I am.” She uttered a harsh chuckle. “What, were you worried you scared me off?”

“No. You’re too brave for that.” He was completely serious, his blue eyes wide and earnest. “Susan, I’m sorry for all of this. My fear came true – I ruined everything. And what’s worse, I almost made your fear come true – you almost lost someone you cared about. That is, if you _do_ still care about me.” At Susan’s horrified expression, he quickly amended. “Not that you wouldn’t because you’re a fair-weather friend or anything! I would never think that of you. It’s just, I know that I worried you quite badly, and I’m sure it awoke some feelings and memories you probably would rather have not been brought to the surface. If this is all too much for you, Susan, it’s all right. I…I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t want to be with me. But it doesn’t matter, because I just want you to be happy. And if being away from me is what will make you happy, then I will have to accept that.” 

“Marcus.” Susan heaved a heavy sigh. “You know, you’re _really_ good at steeling yourself for the worst.”

“I’ve learned too many times how badly it hurts when I don’t,” he whispered.

Susan nodded. She had learned that terrible lesson all over again a mere few hours ago. “You did scare me. You really, _really_ scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, but Susan plowed onward.

“I didn’t expect to be that scared. But I’ve had awhile to think about it now, and I guess I’ve decided that it means something. If I was <>that scared of losing you, then you obviously mean something to me – a lot, actually. And so, I was thinking that I really, really don’t want to actually lose you. And I don’t mean just dying, although that would be really bad. But not even to us…not being…together…God, I’m rambling, I’m sorry…”

“Susan.” There he was again, solemn and braced for the worst, just in case what he thought he was hearing wasn’t actually the case. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I…I think so. I want to do this, Marcus. I want to give it my best shot. It might be the stupidest idea in the whole universe, but I don’t care. Because it’s time we both had someone. Someone who makes us happy.”

“Happy isn’t quite the word.” Marcus’s eyes were shining with tears, and when he reached out and grabbed Susan’s hand, she held his right back.

“I really am sorry about all of this. I promise to try not to put you through this again in the future.”

“You’d better try really hard,” she chuckled, realizing that she was crying a little too. But she supposed that was all right. “I’m glad you’re okay, Marcus. And I’m sorry I wasn’t here before.”

“You’re here now,” he said, his joy permeating all of her like his heart had sent tendrils to intertwine with hers. “And that’s all that matters.”

 _Here I am,_ she thought. And maybe, hopefully, there she’d stay.

 

“I’m bored.” Marcus huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the ceiling.

“At least there is a whole new set of patterns in the ceiling to memorize now that you have been moved out of the intensive care unit and into the general wards,” Lennier pointed out without looking up from his work.

“Don’t you have something to do besides snark at me?”

“No,” said Lennier simply.

“Aren’t you supposed to be…I don’t know, working? Maybe on something with Delenn?”

“It is nothing I cannot do here.” 

“Well, if you’re just going to sit there, then you might as well do something useful. Useful to me, I mean.”

“Like what?” Lennier looked and sounded extremely skeptical.

“Like _get me out of here.”_

“I am not going to break you out of Medlab, Marcus,” said Lennier pedantically. “Besides, you have only been here for two days, and Doctor Franklin says that as long as all goes well today you may return to your quarters tomorrow. That is not much time at all. I daresay I’ve spent far more time confined to a hospital bed than you, and with considerably less complaining.”

Marcus knew he shouldn’t torment his friend. Lennier had a point – what Marcus was currently experiencing with his own health was nothing at all compared to what Lennier had been through, and what he continued to face. But Marcus was still not feeling as well as he would have liked and he was just so incredibly _bored_ that he decided to tempt fate a bit more.

“Yes, speaking of which, don’t you know that immunocompromised people shouldn’t spend more time than necessary in hospitals?”

“Stop eating things you’re allergic to and I won’t have to.” Lennier _finally_ looked up from his datapad. “And you’re in no position to make comments about my immune system. It is weary and broken and has been through an immense amount of torment. Your immune system mistook something meant to nourish it for something trying to kill you, and it is therefore an idiot.”

Before Marcus could concede that Lennier had, in fact, won that battle of words, his friend rose from his chair, placed the datapad from which he had been working on Marcus’s bedside table, and turned for the door.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Back to work,” Lennier said over his shoulder as he left. Marcus shook his head incredulously as he picked up the pad and looked at what Lennier had left on the screen.

It was from an old Earth book – _Swing Dancing for Dummies._

Clever. Incredibly useful, as it would both give Marcus something to read while in bed and provide a way for him to connect with Susan once he was well – but also _very_ clever. Marcus chuckled and shook his head as he began to read.

 

“It’s ‘step, step, triple step, _step, step,_ triple step,” Susan said. “It’s eight-count. You’re trying to make it six.”

“Aha! So _that_ is my problem,” Marcus said, studying his own feet very carefully as he moved them to the beat Susan had set.

“One of many,” laughed Susan as she made her feet mirror Marcus’s.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, for one thing, you’re shoe’s untied, and you’re going to…”

“ _Hurgh!_ ” Marcus grunted as he tripped and pitched forward. Susan caught him just in time to prevent him from hitting the floor.

“Like I said, one of many.”

“Well,” said Marcus, squaring his shoulders in an attempt to regain his dignity, “it’s a good thing I have you then – to help me through all my problems.”

“I have my own problems, Marcus,” she laughed, “and plenty of them.”

“But if you help me through my problems, and I help you through your problems, then cumulatively we will have less problems.”

“You’re making my head hurt,” Susan said with a laugh.

“Ah, another problem. How can I help?”

“Less talking, more dancing. Eight-count Lindy Hop. You lead.”

“All right.” They assumed closed position, and Marcus led her back and forth again in the same rhythmic pattern.

“Good, you’re doing well,” Susan praised after several repetitions. “Now, when you’re ready, try a turn.”

A couple of steps later, Marcus obliged by sending her into a free spin. However, he neglected to trace her steps and stop her. She punished him by continuing to spin across the room, laughing as he ran after her.

“Hey! You’re supposed to be doing the steps!”

“And you’re supposed to be dancing with me, your partner! It’s _partner dancing_!”

“You’re the lead, you were supposed to stop my spinning! That’s the lead’s job – the follow turns until the lead tells them to stop!”

“That’s…a good point, actually. Sorry. I’ll get it next time.” Marcus’s eyes sparkled with joy as Susan bent double with laughter. “Although I think next time may be in a couple of minutes, when you can breathe again.”

“You were going to let me spin into infinity!” She choked, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor while she attempted to collect herself. He sat down next to her.

“Nonsense.” He grabbed both of her hands and the joviality in his eyes suddenly transformed into a deep earnestness. “I’ll always be there to catch you.”

Susan joined her lips with his for a long moment before nuzzling her way into resting her head on his chest. “I know.”

She couldn’t see Marcus’s smile as he rested his cheek on top of her head, but she could _feel_ it in the way his muscles relaxed as they made contact. They rested that way for several moments before Marcus said,

“We should get back to dancing.”

“Why?” she laughed, moving to look up at him. “I mean, I’m thrilled that you’re so into learning swing, but you’re allowed to take a break, you know.”

“Why? Because you enjoy it, and therefore I want to learn it. I mean, I am having fun of my own accord, but more importantly, me doing this is making you happy.”

“But you _are_ happy? Not just because I’m happy?” She clarified.

He smiled, the love in his eyes sending sparks shooting from her heart through her entire circulatory system. “Those two things are one and the same. But yes. I am happy.” He lightly kissed Susan’s hair as she pressed her head into his chest again. “And you? Are you happy?” He sounded almost breathless anticipation. _Oh, Marcus. You should know by know that you don’t have to worry about this._

“Yes,” she said, making sure to look in his eyes so he knew she was telling the complete truth. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, I think.” And after everything she had been through, that said a lot.

They did practice dancing some more that day, but not for a while. First, they sat on the floor, in each others’ arms, with Marcus stroking Susan’s hair and the both of them letting their newfound happiness wash over them. They had both experienced extents of pain over and over again that no one should need to know even once. But now it was time.

Time for them to be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of the fic, "My Baby Can Dance", is also the title of a swing song by Carsie Blanton.
> 
> The chapter titles are also all lyrics from swing songs, some of which are mentioned in the fic:  
> "And I'm Trying To Please The Calling Of Your Heartstrings" - "Moondance", Van Morrison  
> "It Means That You're The Fairest In The Land" - "Bei Mir Bistu Shein", Andrews Sisters  
> "A Fantabulous Night To Make Romance" - "Moondance", Van Morrison  
> "But It Wouldn't Be Make Believe If You Believed In Me" - " It's Only A Paper Moon", Ella Fitzgerald/Nat King Cole  
> "But Of All These Things, I Like You Best Of All" - "I Like Pie, I Like Cake", Lee Morse
> 
> Thank you all for allowing me to share my swing-dance themed fic with you! Swing dancing is one of my absolute favorite things in life - it brings me so much joy and I would highly encourage everyone to try it!


End file.
